Page 40 of Stars in Aura

Klash, still out for the count, was being attended to by Juno while Bear was racing to the armory.

Issa glanced up as he approached, her visor up, her eyes unreadable.

Ki’Remi’s voice was pure gravel. ‘If you’re responsible for this shit -.’

The sky erupted into a maelstrom of heavy fire.

‘Incoming,’ Riva shouted from the edge of the sheared-off hull, where she stood guard, weapons hot.

Energy lasers rained down, turning the clearing around the ship into hell.

Riva returned fire as Bear joined her.

Ki’Remi raced to the rear deck and slammed open the munitions hold, pulling out an armored suit.

Fokkyeah.

Twas Sable tech, the best freakin’ combat gear in Pegasi.

He stripped, got the battle attire to his waist, and jammed on a HUD helmet in rapid jerks, pausing as steps sounded behind him.

He turned to see Issa standing there, her eyes dilated as she stared at his naked chest.

‘What thefokkdo you want?’ he growled.

‘I’m coming with you,’ she announced.

‘The hell you’re not.’

‘You’ll require backup.’

He was on the cusp of retorting when he caught the look in her eye.

She knew more than she was letting on.

‘Thefokkwho’s out there will tear your ass up.’

‘No offense, but I’ve never witnessed you in battle,’ he groused. ‘I’m better equipped to do this with Bear. He’ll have my six, given his heavy extraction and defensive experience. You need to evacuate with the others. We’ll cover you.’

‘Nada,’ she countered, reaching for a power suit.

‘You have no combat expertise, woman,’ he growled, coming up so close to her they almost touched. ‘You’ll be toast. Keep to thefokkinorders I give.’

She smirked. ‘No chance, Sable. Let’s see who bleeds first.’

They glared at each other as Bear and Riva crashed into the space.

‘We need to get thefokkout,’ Bear snarled. ‘The assault ship is now landing their soldiers.’

Juno had Zera and Klash in hover med chairs outside the corridor, and Ki’Remi prowled to them.

‘How bad is he?’ he rasped, gesturing at Klash.

A concussion,’ Riva called. ‘We have to get to cover.’

‘Will we die?’

The halting question came from Zera, strapped in her chair, still on a drip and appearing wan and frail.

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